


Prelude

by orphan_account



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Missing Scene For The Eastbourne Episode, Morning After, One Night Stands, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Malcolm and Nicola wake up in the same bed.
Relationships: Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Prelude

Malcolm wakes up with something warm and solid next to him. Or more specifically half on top of him. He frowns before blearily opening his eyes and turning his head to the side. He has to blink a few times, because all he can see is the top of someone’s head. After a few seconds his senses become more aware and he recognises the chestnut frizz immediately. He exhales sharply through his nose and almost feels like laughing at the lunacy of this situation. Waking up in a hotel room in Eastbourne with Nicola Murray using his shoulder as a pillow was not how he had planned to spend his Friday morning. 

From his position on the bed he cannot see Nicola’s face. But he’s acutely aware of the fact that they’re both naked and that Nicola has a leg draped over one of his beneath the covers and her small hand is resting on his chest. Her gold wedding band on her forefinger reminding Malcolm of yet another reason among many, many others why what they’d done the night before was a bad idea.

His mind begins to turn to damage control. No one but them new about this but knowing Nicola’s ability to fuck up any given situation he needed to make sure she knew that if she was to ever mention this on the record or off the record with anyone, he would rip out her finger nails one by one and sell them as trinkets.

But first he needs a shower and to get out of here without some nosy maid noticing Downing Streets spin doctor leaving the room of one of his married cabinet ministers. Jesus Christ the whole thing was such a cliche he could vomit. 

For some utterly bizarre reason though he finds himself reluctant to wake the sleeping woman in bed with him. He blames his sentimentally on the remnants of alcohol that must still be in his system since the night before, even though neither of them drank that much. And not on the fact that he knows how exhausted Nicola has been lately, and how over the past 24 hours she’d been on an emotional rollercoaster only to pull off a half decent speech. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little proud of her for that. 

Still he couldn’t just lie there all day, and breaks the calm silence of the room by clearing his throat loudly. The mess of hair next to him doesn’t budge. He rolls his eyes at this, trust Nicola to be a heavy sleeper. Well, it looked like he’d have to this the hard way. So he abruptly nudges her head on his shoulder, this at least makes her groan, but Nicola still doesn’t wake up. 

Losing patience he sighs, “For Christ sake, wakey wakey, sleeping ugly.” He says loudly and nudges his shoulder again. 

Finally he gets a reaction as Nicola huffs under her breath and rolls over onto her other side and away from him. “James, please, I’m trying to sleep.” She moans and Malcolm just stares at the back of her head with an amused grin. She was just as dozy half asleep as she was at work. 

“Try again, sweetheart,” he drawls sarcastically, empathising the word sweetheart. 

There’s no immediate reaction from Nicola. But Malcolm counts down from ten in his head and by the time he reaches 8, Nicola suddenly glances over her shoulder at him. She squints as she slowly wakes up. But the second she recognises him her green eyes widen and she has that panicked look on her face she usually only has while preparing for a public appearance. 

“Oh, shit.” She gasps dramatically.

“My thought exactly.” He agrees with her with a devilish grin.

Nicola lifts up the covers to look down at herself beneath the sheets, and her face turns red when she realises she isn’t wearing anything. “fuckfuckfuck,” she repeats and tries to twist her body to get further away from him. In true Nicola form though, she manages to fall off the side of the bed, dragging the top layer of bed sheets with her with a thump. 

Malcolm shakes his head, and pulls out the material that covers the mattress to cover himself up. More because he’s cold, and not because he cares about being naked.

At least a minute passes and Nicola doesn’t reamurge from the floor, “you planning on staying down there all day?” He calls over while reaching for his Blackberry on the bedside table.

“I was actually hoping if I stayed here long enough that whatever drug I’ve taken that’s making me see you in my hotel room would wear off and you’d disappear. And this will just have been some sort of twisted stress induced vision.” She says from the floor on the other side of the bed, but doesn’t get up. 

“Aye, well I’m not enjoying this scenario either. It’s like some fucked up episode of Eastenders.” He rebuffs as he checks his email. His phone also tells him it’s not even 6am yet, which means he can make a swift exit without being seen soon.

He glares at his phone as he continues to scroll. The only good piece of information he sees is that Sam has arranged a car for him from this shithole at 8am. Which means he has time to plug any loose ends here before going back to Westminster. 

Speaking of loose ends he curiously looks over the empty side of the bed, “get up from the floor, Nicola. At least pretend you’re not completely bonkers.”

He hears a heavy exhale of breath, before Nicola’s hand reaches up to the mattress and pulls herself up. She’s managed to wrap the white sheet around herself and she sits as close to the edge of the bed as she can. He can see her profile, but she doesn’t turn to look at him fully. She mutters something that he can’t quite hear, “speak up if you’ve got something to say.” He insists and finally she looks at him properly.

“I said I’m not bonkers.” She hisses angrily and pushes a strand on brown hair behind her ear. Not that it helps. She looks worse than usual, she looks tired. Maybe he should of let her sleep and just sneak off. “Although considering what we did last night, maybe you’re right.” She adds.

“What we did last night doesn’t leave this fucking room,” he snaps at her instinctively but regrets it only slightly by the way Nicola flinches.

“As if I’d be that thick, Malcolm!” She bites back, “do you really think I want to break up my family because of a stupid decision?”

“Considering you’re married to a bloody cave man and most of your brood are uncontrollable, who fucking knows what ideas go on in that empty head of yours. So yeah, maybe I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You’re an absolute bastard,” she goes on and turns her back completely to him. Malcolm stares at her exposed upper back that the sheet doesn’t cover. He notices with mild interest a birth mark over her left shoulder blade. It’s the size of a 20p coin and the colour of red wine.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He says focused on that small mark on her back, “but as long as we’re are on the same page for once.” 

She doesn’t reply, nor does she turn around. So he takes her silence as agreement. “Right then so while you’ve turned mute I’ll go to the bathroom, give you some privacy.”

Nicola laughs at that for some reason, but he doesn’t ask why. 

“So we aren’t even going to talk about it?” She pipes up just as he’s about to do what he just said. He freezes, still on the bed.

“If we both agree it was a mistake then what’s there to talk about?” He asks, and she shrugs at this. 

“I know it was a mistake, I just...” Nicola starts to say something but gives up half way through her sentence. Something he’s used to her doing, and finds totally annoying. 

“Use your words, Nicola. You know, just like I teach you ever other week whenever you’re let loose on an unsuspecting public,” sarcasm is to easy when it comes to her, and it works like a charm.

“I just don’t think I’d be opposed to it happening again.” She spits out quickly. And to be fair to her this piece of information does surprise him. “Would you mind it happening again?”

He has a list of reasons why any scenario like this one happening again would be a bad idea. But he forgets them all, if only for this tiny moment. 

“Who knows, darlin’,” he sighs, answering as honestly as he can, “but right now you need to get showered and changed and I need to do the same before some housekeeper barges in or even worse the likes of Ollie or Glenn come to fetch you.” 

Nicola half smiles and nods, “you’re right. I’m Sorry Malcolm.” 

He doesn’t know if it’s the way she slumps her shoulders or the fact she was apologetic or maybe he was the bonkers one. But for some maddening reason, Malcolm leans over as much as he can and kisses her shoulder, “I’ve woken up to worse people next to me,” he jokes and Nicola beams up at this. 

“So have I,” she admits quietly.

“Glenn?”

That earns him a smack on his arm. “Ha ha very funny, Malcolm. But no, I’m talking about my pre married university days after a few to many red bull vodkas.”

He tries to imagine a younger Nicola getting drunk at parties and having a one stand with another pompous politics student. While he spent his uni days without much of a social life or friends. And marvels again at how different they were. 

Finally he moves away and stands with his own sheet around his waist. “Well let’s just hope the press don’t get hold of that information. You’d go from glummy mummy to slutty mummy.” He says and waggles his brows as he backs up towards the bathroom.

Nicola reaches down and grabs one of her discarded stilettos then throws it in his direction. He manages to avoid it though, “your aim is as bad as your public speaking,” he says just before making it to the bathroom and closing the door shut.

Once he’s alone he allows himself to smile properly. Then catches himself in the mirror and frowns. Fuck, he was getting soft in his old age.


End file.
